


orpheo looks back

by oflights



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Prostitution, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oflights/pseuds/oflights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey," Sidney says in a gravelly, low voice that's so clearly purposefully sexy that it makes Geno want to giggle. "Want some company?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	orpheo looks back

**Author's Note:**

> so i took kink_bingo inspired prompts on tumblr and got this one from an anon:
> 
>  _Sid likes to pretend that they're strangers, and he lets Geno use him? Put it under anonymity, role play, or sex work/prostitution depending on where you want to take it :)_
> 
> i took it in the prostitution direction and oh my god, you guys, this is filthy. please understand that. it's ridiculous. and it's probably not even tagged correctly because i never tag correctly. blame anon, okay? blame anon. 
> 
> the title is from andrew bird, goodbye.

"You in tonight?" Nealer asks, and he barely has the words out before Geno's shaking his head, tightening up his tie. 

"No. Stay in tonight, Lazy. You have fun, I'm be old man at home in front of TV."

Nealer snorts, straightening his horrid plaid suit jacket and patting down his pockets to make sure he has everything. The dressing room is emptying out, the chatter light and happy after the win, and Nealer will scramble to catch up with Paulie and Nisky in a bit, but he hangs back to be a dick to Geno, of course. "Nah, I bet you're still gonna go out but you're gonna do it alone. Sad and alone with a dessert platter."

Geno ducks his head so Nealer can't see the entirety of his grin, unfurling across his face.  
  
Nealer's right; he is going out, but he won't be alone, and he has a text message with the details to prove it. It's just not one he's going to show Nealer.

"No. I'm go home sad and alone now, you go home sad and alone later, what is difference?"

Nealer punches him in the shoulder and then hurries up when Nisky turns to bitch at him. Geno takes his time, saying goodbye to Dana and the rest of the equipment staff, slipping his winter coat on and swinging his car keys in his fingers as he heads out of Consol. He tells Olli not to get lost in the parking lot, lets his car warm up a bit before pulling out, and follows the speed limit to the lounge they've chosen. He has time because his date won't meet him for a little while anyway; that's always how this works.

Geno hands his car off to the valet and heads inside, turning his coat collar up at the chill. The lighting inside the lounge is low and soft, and the music is barely louder than the low murmur of patrons seated in booths and at the long, lit up bar. 

This is not the kind of place he's ever gone with the team; there are no TVs, and the cushioned booths give the illusion of privacy and separation. Geno starts a tab with a waitress, orders a drink, and settles into a booth to enjoy it.

He's contemplating the merits and practicality of a second drink when someone slides into the booth across from him, smelling of cold air and a hint of barely familiar cologne. Geno looks up and smiles slowly at Sidney, tamping down on the urge to beam at him, to shake his head fondly at the tops of his winter-pink cheeks and the gel in his hair.

"Hey," Sidney says in a gravelly, low voice that's so clearly purposefully sexy that it makes Geno want to giggle. "Want some company?"

Geno sips at his drink and screws on a poker face, because Sidney will just get pissy if he messes this up too soon. It helps that Sidney had gone home and changed out of his game day suit; he's wearing a black collared shirt, one Geno knows is part of his usual out-with-the-guys wardrobe, but he also knows Sidney usually buttons it way more than he has now. 

When Sidney leans back in the seat, making himself comfortable even though Geno hasn't yet invited him to, the gap at his collar widens and Geno can see all down his sternum. If he tugged it to the side, he could see a nipple.

Hysterically, he thinks Sidney must be cold. Beyond that, he's already stupidly turned on, and he avoids chugging the rest of his drink because he thinks he'll need his wits to keep from making an idiot of himself tonight. He wants to do this right.

"You good company?" Geno asks after clearing his throat, forcing his brain to catch on to the thread of the game.

Sidney gives him a crooked smile, ducking his head bashfully enough that Geno can't tell if he's acting or if it's just his true shyness peeking out. "I think so," Sidney says, giving a little shrug. "Buy me a drink and find out?"

Geno already has his hand up for the waitress. He orders Sidney the same drink that he has in a fairly gruff voice, and he feels his pants tighten a little when Sidney squirms in his seat. 

"Thank you," Sidney says to the waitress when she returns with his drink, and Geno watches him take his first sip, watches his slightly chapped lips get wet with alcohol.

Then Sidney says, "Come here often?" and Geno has to choke into his own glass to keep from laughing. He coughs politely into his fist, clears his throat and shakes his head, remembering the game again.

"No, first time here. You?"

Sidney shrugs again, stirring the ice in his glass. "I've been around, yeah." Geno burns up with the implication, even though he knows it's false, knows it's a part of this.

"Good company for lots?" he manages, the words thick on his tongue. Sidney takes a long sip of his drink and bites his bottom lip before he answers, smirking around the words.

"Why? D'you want references?"

"Think I see for myself," Geno says, impatience surging through him. Sidney lights up and then tries to hide it, slouching again, trying to fall into being coy once more. Geno lets him because he knows it's only a matter of time before Sidney's eagerness shines through again; that's an important part of this too. 

"Good," Sidney practically chirps. "I'd like another drink."

Geno plies him with two more, sticking to his one and not letting Sidney go too much over the limit they'd set long ago for games like this. He watches Sidney get looser and braver, to embrace the role and the shame of the role as he drinks a bit more, but his voice is still barely above a whisper when he says, "Are you going to take me somewhere?"

Geno takes a breath, rubs his own hand on his thigh. This is the point where _he_ has to be brave, where the game can either fall apart or become exactly what they want it to be, what they need the roles for. "What you think?" Geno says, swallowing and then leveling Sidney with a dark, hard gaze. "Think I can't get better company than a whore?"

In the low light, Sidney practically glows red, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallows, too. If all goes well, this is not the last time Geno will call Sidney a whore tonight, and that might not even be the worst of it. But the early results are already so delicious, already have Geno's pulse racing and his cock thickening between his legs. 

"I'm great company," Sidney says. He lifts his chin like he's trying to act defiant, but his eyes are bright and there's that eagerness again. Geno can feel his leg bouncing beneath their table, and he thinks if he peeked under Sidney's legs would be spread wide. "I can prove it."

"Come here," Geno says. Sidney slides around the inside of the booth until he's on Geno's side, banging his knee into the leg of the table and freezing with his face twisted up, so clearly trying not to react that Geno tamps down on the chuckle threatening to bubble out of his throat. 

Instead, he snakes his hand down between them and cups it over the knee Sidney had hit, rubbing it under the guise of just touching Sidney because that's why he'd called him over. He crowds him up against the back of the booth, penning him in until Sidney's breathing is a little rough, and his pupils are dark and blown.

"How much?" Geno makes himself ask, and he leans in for Sidney to whisper the number breathlessly into his ear. He lets himself laugh then, trying to make it sound cruel instead of incredulous, and slides his hand up to Sidney's thigh. "Pricey whore."

Sidney's breath hitches, and Geno noses gently at the bright, high splotch of color on his cheek. "You can afford it," Sidney says shakily, and then with more confidence he says, "And I'm worth it."

Geno bites down on his smile. "Tell me what I'm get for that."

It's the hardest part for Sidney, Geno knows. It's hard for him even when they're not playing this game, when they're just in bed together and Geno wants him to talk about what he likes, what he fantasizes about. Sidney is fine with locker room innuendo, will giggle at sex jokes like a teenager and throw around all the right insults on the ice when the situation calls for it. But Geno has to pry sex talk out of him when they're alone, when it's real, and the only time it ever comes easy is in the heat of the moment, when Sidney is desperate for something.

Now he's squirming a little against Geno, leaning in close enough to whisper again. His breath is hot on Geno's ear and the tremor in his voice _sounds_ desperate, if a little nervous, too. "My hand," Sidney whispers, letting his own hand slide in to rub at the inside of Geno's thigh. "I'm really good with my hands. I'll—I'll lube you up and stroke you until you're begging."

Geno shudders, and digs his fingernails into the palm of his hand to center himself. Then he picks his hand up and places his thumb on Sidney's bottom lip, pressing on the plump, red flesh. "What about mouth?" Geno asks quietly. "How much for that?"

"A—A little more," Sidney says, blinking rapidly. "My mouth comes, um. Highly recommended."

A flash of heat goes Geno's gut, and he has to breathe harshly through his nose for a few moments before he can keep going. Sidney is practically vibrating against him, completely red in the face, and Geno makes himself calm down before he forces himself to slide his hand down Sidney's back and palm his ass as best he can, squeezing the topmost part of it.

"And your ass?" Geno asks, his voice shaky to his own ears. "No deal if I can't have your ass."

Geno thinks Sidney stifles a moan, dropping his head to rest on Geno's shoulder. Geno shuffles them even deeper into the booth, though someone would have to be standing directly in front of it to see them, and they couldn't see Sidney, Geno is covering too much of him. 

"That costs—that's more," Sidney says. "But I—I think I have a deal you'll like."

He whispers another number in Geno's ear, high enough that Geno’s eyes widen. It’s kind of ridiculous, because they’d planned that number; he has exactly that number counted out in bills in an envelope tucked in his glove compartment, waiting. But he’s trembling in anticipation now, because he knows what that number’s for, what it gets him, and he can’t wait to hear Sidney say it.

“Very much,” Geno says in a hushed voice that he doesn’t even have to fake. “Tell me what I’m get for that.”

Sidney’s hand clenches on his thigh. His voice is small and shaky when he speaks, and Geno knows it’s not for lack of wanting; saying it is the hard part for Sidney, not the doing it. There are no clichés for what they do together. “You can use me,” Sidney says, looking up at Geno through his eyelashes, nothing coy about it. “Anything. You can do anything to me, make me do anything to you, I’ll—I’ll be yours.” 

Geno’s chest tightens, and he tightens his hold on Sidney, squeezing him against his side. 

“Deal,” he says roughly, too overcome to play it up, tilting Sidney’s chin up to make eye contact. “I’m pay. You mine.”

Sidney lets out a breathless laugh, nodding. 

“Kiss you now,” Geno says, and he watches Sidney’s eyes go wide, his expression freeze, because no matter how private their booth is this is still in public. 

Geno keeps it short and sweet, a hint of his tongue swiping across Sidney’s lips, because he can and that’s the point; it’s not about the risk but about the fact that Geno’s entitled to it, that that’s part of the deal. 

 

“You have a nice car,” Sidney says with a hint of a giggle in his voice. Geno has to fight his own giggle because Sidney actually hates his car. “You must make a lot of money.”

The whole conversation is absurd, because they both make a lot of money and Sidney makes more than him, anyway. He wants to get to the parts of this that are real, the parts where Sidney is his for the night, because he’s starting to tire of the charade. 

But Sidney likes this, and Geno thinks Sidney needs this to be comfortable with the parts that are real. “Make enough,” Geno says, tapping his steering wheel with his leather-gloved fingers as they wait by a red light. He catches Sidney staring at his fingers and does it again, more deliberately. “Enough to afford most expensive whore in Pittsburgh.”

He can see Sidney hug himself in his seat, squirming. His long coat is open and his jeans are tight enough that Geno can see that he’s hard. He speeds up, ignoring the speed limit this time, watching Sidney grip the handle of his door.

He takes Sidney to a nice hotel, not any one the team has anything to do with, not even close to where they would run into Olli or Kobasew, but nice enough that Sidney looks around the lobby and makes another comment about money in the elevator. He had seen Geno slip the envelope into his inside coat pocket, and Geno doesn’t know if he’d imagined this but he thinks Sidney had gotten a little harder; he’d pulled his coat closed over his front.

In the hotel room, Geno takes Sidney’s coat off for him and then kisses him, hard and with all the intensity he’s been buzzing with since Sidney sent him that text before the game: _if it’s a win, I’ll meet you at 11._ Sidney opens his mouth wide under Geno’s, takes his tongue in and sucks on it greedily until Geno pulls away, breathing hard and staring at Sidney’s wide mouth.

“Take clothes off,” Geno says lowly, folding both of their coats over the back of an armchair and then sitting down in it. He opens the minibar, because there’s a small overnight bag he’d tucked discreetly under the chair that says they can stay the night and not drive home. He waves a little bottle of bourbon at Sidney and takes his shoes off, relaxing in the chair. “Slow. Want see what I’m pay for.”

Sidney blushes all over as he strips, unbuttoning his shirt slowly even though there are barely any buttons fastened. He slips it from his shoulders and stands still while Geno looks him over, then starts fumbling with his belt buckle when Geno nods approvingly and takes a sip of the bourbon. 

Geno stands up when Sidney’s totally naked, making a big show of walking around him and looking at him from all sides. He enjoys the way Sidney flushes warmly under his gaze and avoids eye contact after trying to maintain it for a while. 

“Good,” Geno says, giving him another kiss, tweaking one of his nipples and smiling when Sidney jumps. “Bend over the bed, on elbows. Better view for me to check.”

Sidney swallows hard and does it, his head hanging low and his ass stuck out for Geno’s inspection. He’s shaking a little when Geno touches him, palming the roundest, thickest part of one asscheek and spreading his hand as wide as it goes. Geno pets him there, squeezes the flesh and then leans next to Sidney, tilting his head up and showing him the little bottle of bourbon. “Relax you,” Geno whispers, putting it to Sidney’s lips. He only allows him a small sip before he trashes it, but Sidney’s eyes slide closed as he swallows, and his head hangs low once more.

“I’m relaxed,” Sidney says, eyes fluttering open again. “I’m a professional, G—uh. What should I call you?”

“Geno,” Geno practically snarls, and Sidney doesn’t look like he’ll argue this time. Last time they’d hit a bit of a snag with that—Geno didn’t want to hear a fake name coming out of Sidney’s mouth and didn’t want to speak one, couldn’t remember the one that Sidney gave him anyway—and right now he’s way too turned on to think about going through that again.

Indeed, Sidney just licks his lips and nods. “Okay. Geno. I’m Sidney.”

“Call you Sid?” Geno asks, smiling. Sidney smiles back. 

“You can call me whatever you’d like. I’m yours, remember?”

“Mine,” Geno says with a satisfied growl in his voice. “My whore tonight, yes?”

Sidney nods again, not quite as steady, but his hips jerk just slightly, too. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

And Sidney swallows hard and closes his eyes, and Geno’s wondering if he’ll need to go back to the minibar to get it out of him this soon, until Sidney whispers, “Yes. I’m your whore.”

“Good,” Geno says, running his hand down Sidney’s back until it’s at his ass again. He squeezes until Sidney’s wriggling against it, groping his fill and letting his fingers tap between his cheeks—he hasn’t taken his gloves off yet. 

He does when he’s getting more comfortable, loosening his belt and taking off his suit jacket and tie, folding up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Sidney is trying to watch as best he can while he’s holding the position; the enormous bed is pretty high but still low enough that being bent like that isn’t entirely comfortable for long, Geno imagines. He takes his time anyway, thinking about how they have all night. 

“I’m try to decide what I want first,” Geno says, fiddling with his fly and deliberating over unzipping it. He’s standing directly behind Sidney, so Sidney can’t see him, and he can tell that Sidney’s straining to hear that zipper, shaking again. 

“Whatever you want,” Sidney says. His hands flex against the bedspread, fingers digging in. Geno touches his ass with his bare hand now, slaps it lightly to watch it jiggle, then pinches the extra fat at Sidney’s hip. Sidney squirms, first away and then towards Geno’s fingers when he realizes what he’s doing, and his breathing is picking up. 

“So much choice,” Geno says. “You say anything.” He takes Sidney by the hips, squeezing there until Sidney squirms again, then lifts his bottom half completely onto the bed, so Sidney scoots up on his belly. He hisses and Geno knows that’s his cock, knows it’s hard and dragging against the bedspread, so Geno grips the considerable weight of him and flips him onto his back, using all his strength to make it look easy. 

Sidney’s cock bounces against his stomach with the movement, leaving a damp spot of precome by his navel. Geno hums and leans all the way down to lick at the spot, breathing over the shiny head of Sidney’s cock and smiling when he whimpers. “You like be mine, hm?” Geno says, running his finger up lightly up and down the large vein on the underside. “Do whores get to come?”

He watches Sidney’s face kind of crumple as he lets out another whimper, and he pants a little when he forces out, “Only if—only if you want me to.” Sidney’s hips shift up, as if arguing with himself, and Geno forces them down with two hands, squeezing around them. 

“Maybe,” Geno says lightly, rubbing his thumbs over Sidney’s hipbones. “Stay still, be good, and only come if I say, and maybe I’m let.”

“Okay,” Sidney breathes out, locking eyes with him and nodding. 

Geno gently scrapes his nails up Sidney’s ribcage, kneeling next to him on the bed to settle in comfortably. He watches the skin pink up under his touch, watches the faint tremors that come from Sidney trying to be so still, and smiles at him when he reaches Sidney’s nipples. They are as hard as his cock, dark and pebbled and perfect for pinching, so Geno works one between his fingers as he leans down to lick the other slowly. 

“Ah,” Sidney says, and he repeats that for a while as Geno keeps working him. He jerks when Geno closes his teeth around one nipple and tugs, but he stills immediately when Geno picks his head up to look at him, his eyes wide, sweat beading at his temples and making his hair stick to his forehead. Geno nods and gets back to it, pressing sucking kisses all over Sidney’s chest and smiling as he pants beneath his lips.

Sidney’s chest is heaving and slightly damp with sweat when Geno picks his head up again. His stomach muscles are jumping and Geno pats him there gently, smiling down at his swollen nipples, kissing each one in turn and sitting up again.

He doesn’t let Sidney catch his breath, just scoots down until he can lean over his cock comfortably and take it in his mouth. Sidney shouts out, hips jerking until Geno glares up at him. He’s whimpering again and doesn’t stop even as his hips still, and Geno sucks him until the whimpering gets high and panicked and dissolves into, “G—Geno, wait, please, I’m—I’m gonna— _please_ —”

Geno pulls off, cupping Sidney’s tightened balls in one hand and watching him squeeze his eyes shut. “Okay?” Geno asks sternly. Sidney forces his eyes open and gives Geno such a look of pleading that his heart feels too big for his chest.

The feeling intensifies when Sidney says, “I—I want to be good, please don’t—” Geno lets his balls go, pets his belly and avoids his cock completely until his breaths slow down a little. 

“You very good,” Geno tells him, wiping his sweaty hair away from his forehead, running his fingers through a few curls until he can free them from the hair gel. “Good whore for me, Sid. So good.”

Sidney relaxes, reaches up hesitantly and takes Geno’s hand. He squeezes it, and it’s such—it’s so _Sidney_ , so them, nothing to do with the game or even the real motivations of the game. It makes it necessary for Geno to lean in and give him the sweet kind of kiss he’d give him first thing in the morning, soft and gentle.

He pulls back ready to go back to that, perfectly fine with ending the game here and making Sidney come with no permission necessary. But Sidney lifts his chin, his eyes going brighter as he regains some of his control. “I can be better,” he tells Geno, and there’s the game again, not something Geno needs with Sidney, but he can’t deny wanting it. 

They’ve come this far, and there’s no point in not seeing it through. Geno says, “Okay, show me. Get on your knees.”

Sidney moves off the bed too fast for it to look graceful, but his eagerness has Geno straining against his fly. He groans in relief when he takes himself out, scoots to sit at the edge of the bed and lefts one leg so his socked foot is resting on Sidney’s back.

“Up more,” he rumbles, and he takes Sidney’s head in his hands when it’s high enough, guides it onto his cock. Sidney’s mouth is soft and wet and perfect, and he takes Geno with practiced, familiar ease.

Geno snaps his hips into it, fucking Sidney’s mouth with the confidence of knowing how good he always takes it. “So easy for it,” Geno tells him, keeping one hand wrapped in Sidney’s hair and then using the other to finger at the corners of Sidney’s mouth, stretched tight. “Whore’s mouth so good for this, hm?” 

Sidney moans, closing his eyes. His arms, Geno notices, are crossed behind his back, and it’s almost enough to make him chuckle, imagining him picking that up from porn and deciding it’ll work here with them. He rubs the top of Sidney’s arm with his foot, making him hum around his cock, and keeps fucking his mouth with short, hard thrusts up. 

“Use you good,” Geno says, tightening his fingers in Sidney’s hair, catching in the gel and tugging through it not too gently this time. “Get what I’m pay for. You gonna swallow me now.” He slides his cock deep and keeps it there while he comes, watching Sidney’s throat working hard to swallow. When he pulls him off, Sidney takes a huge gasping breath, looking up with wide, teary eyes.

Geno nudges Sidney to drop his face against Geno’s thigh, both of them getting their breath back. He rests his other foot on Sidney’s back too, rubbing over his spine with his big toe, and Sidney is shivering enough that Geno knows he’s still just as hard and desperate to come. His arms are still behind his back, and Geno marvels at his discipline, dimly wonders about making it easier for him next time and tying him up.

They rest for a few minutes until Geno heaves Sidney back up onto the bed, sprawling close to on top of him. He whimpers into the kiss Geno presses to his mouth, Geno’s thigh slotting between his legs and rubbing against his dripping cock. Geno chases his taste in Sidney’s mouth and keeps him there until he’s panting again.

He puts his thumb in Sidney’s mouth when pulls away, watching him close his eyes and suck on it immediately. “Good whore,” he whispers, and Sidney almost smiles around his thumb. “I’m recommend your mouth but—not for anyone else anymore. Mine now, I’m keep.” 

Sidney mumbles something indistinct around Geno’s thumb, so Geno tugs it out and nudges him to repeat himself. “Have to pay for that,” Sidney says, his voice raspy, and Geno growls and puts three fingers in his mouth now, stretching his lips again. 

“Not get my money’s worth yet,” he tells Sidney, and Sidney looks at him, his eyes curious and hazy. “Told you, no ass, no deal.” Sidney whimpers, shifts his hips restlessly, and nods with Geno’s fingers in his mouth. 

“I’m get you ready,” Geno says, pulling away with a kiss to Sidney’s forehead. He slides off the bed and strips eagerly for Sidney’s hungry eyes, bending at the waist to show off as he grabs the lubricant out of the overnight bag. When he turns back, Sidney is staring at him, hands flat at his sides and twitching, and Geno grins and saunters back over. 

He moves Sidney around and slides under him, pushing Sidney’s head back down towards his crotch and settling himself by Sidney’s. He gives his cock a quick kiss, which pulls a moan from Sidney, and then pushes him further down Geno’s body so he can get at his ass. “You get me ready, too,” Geno says, pointing to his cock, and Sidney goes to work with his hand and mouth eagerly.

Geno keeps up a steady stream of commentary as he fingers Sidney open, concentrating on that instead of the heady, edgy pleasure of getting hard again so fast. It aches in his gut and Sidney is almost gentle about it, tonguing the head of his cock like he’s savoring the taste, burying his face at the base of it and nuzzling.

“You take so easy,” Geno says, two fingers knuckle-deep in Sidney and working them fast. He slaps the side of Sidney’s ass and then digs his fingers in, feeling him moan around his cock. For Sidney’s benefit, the words feeling ugly and slick in his mouth, he spits, “You take a lot here?”

Sidney moans again and then pops off, balancing on one elbow to use his other hand to stroke Geno’s cock slowly. “I’m a whore,” Sidney says in the kind of gravelly voice that isn’t purposeful anymore; it’s from Geno’s cock in his throat and it doesn’t make him feel like giggling, it makes him feel like shoving his cock right back there. “Of course I take a lot.”

“My whore now,” Geno says, and Sidney nods and nuzzles the base of his cock again, kissing it. “You take this only.” He thrusts his cock up in Sidney’s hand and Sidney puts his mouth on it again, swallowing him deep.

Sidney takes four fingers, though he doesn’t need them—Geno had fucked him yesterday morning and he really does open easily. He takes them so Geno can feel him whimpering around his cock again, so Geno can massage his prostate until his cock drips precome steadily onto Geno’s chest. He reminds Sidney not to come, pinches him when he seems too close. 

When he tells Sidney that he’s ready, they’re both ready, Sidney is a red-faced, sweaty mess again, panting and choking on his breaths as Geno repositions him. He screws his face up and bites his own wrist when Geno brushes over his cock, and Geno gives him only a second before he puts him on his hands and knees, pushes his face into the bedspread, and lines himself up. 

Last time, they’d had a conversation about condoms—it was awkward and Sidney had stuttered something out about being clean and going for screenings. Now it only occurs to Geno when he’s pushing in bare, but Sidney is concentrating too much on not coming to say anything, and Geno is grateful. 

He just wants to fuck Sidney hard and that’s what he does, fucking his ass as hard as he’d fucked his mouth, using him the way Sidney had told him he could. Distantly, he’s curious about whether or not Sidney can actually keep from coming without permission—they’ve never made it this far before, and Sidney’s never withstood this much. 

He’s come untouched from less than this, and as Geno fucks into his tense, shaking body, he decides he wants that tension to go away. They’ve seen through enough of this and Sidney’s been so good—Geno leans all the way forward and pounds into Sidney, reaching up to cup his pecs and squeeze them tightly. He pants out, “Good, you so—so good, you can come, come Sid—”

Sidney shouts, muffled into the bedspread, and his back arches so much Geno forces himself to stop thrusting for fear of making him pull something. He feels a splatter of come on his hand and kisses Sidney’s back all over, holds him tightly through his shakes, and keeps a hold of him as he sags against the bed, only holding himself up on his knees now.

Geno goes back to fucking Sidney, petting him when he whimpers and shivers against him. “So good,” he says again, hips jerking sporadically as his own orgasm starts to build. “You get me there, Sid, take me so good, so—” He loses English when he comes, babbling in Russian, filth and nonsense and endearments until he collapses over Sidney in a heap. Sidney just lets him, still curled up on his knees, shivering enough that Geno hugs him instinctually, rubs his back. 

It takes a lot of effort to start pulling out, especially hearing the aspirated sound Sidney makes when Geno’s cock slides totally free. Geno motivates himself with the thought of getting Sidney more comfortable, pushing him to shift until he can strip the bedspread off and fold the blanket beneath it over them, settling Sidney onto his back and curling around him. 

“Rest for little while,” Geno says, kissing just below Sidney’s ear and rubbing over his stomach, making a face when his hand catches on drying come. “I’m clean you up soon. Give you money.” The game will be over then—the money usually makes its way back to Geno somehow, not that he really cares about it, but it means they drop the roles until the next time. 

Sidney sighs softly and blinks up at Geno, smiling hazily at him. “Thank you,” he says, in the same quietly earnest voice he’d thanked the waitress with, and Geno grins and kisses him gently. 

“Like do this for whore Sid, or hockey player Sid,” Geno says, because he always tries to remind Sidney of that after. He likes the game, and he’ll go along with it as long as Sidney needs it, but the things they try here, the way that Sidney likes to be used—Geno likes it any way he can get it. “Like do this for you, with you. Good for me too.”

Sidney takes his hand and squeezes it, settling comfortably against Geno. He looks thoughtful for a little while, and Geno watches his face carefully, always fascinated by Sidney after, watching him come back to himself. “Because I’m yours,” he says eventually, like he’d been working it out in his head for a bit, and Geno has to think about it too until Sidney clarifies, “That’s why you like it. You like it when I’m yours. I do, too.”

Geno shivers and fights to keep eye contact, because this feels important. But Sidney is just smiling again, like they’ve settled something huge. And when he leans up and kisses Geno, he whispers, “Keep the money,” against his mouth. Geno kisses him back fiercely and feels settled.


End file.
